Pilgrim
by popcornfairy
Summary: She remembered the stories her father had used to tell her. The tales of how the ancients, her ancestors, once controlled the world, how they used to live in tall silver cities that pierced the heavens. But one day everything changed, they were betrayed and in a mighty war the ancients were struck down and were forced to wander the wastes for eternity.


Pilgrim

It was hot, too hot. The sun beamed down it's radiant energy glistening the sand leaving heat waves in its wake. She could feel the heat from the side of her cloak and her veil and head coverings did nothing to protect her skin from the suns burning gaze. She put her goggles on and slowly she walked across the dunes hoping that perhaps the swirling images she saw was an oasis, a hidden paradise within desolation.

She didn't have any water, no food save for a moldy old piece of Kafu bread and old crumbs of rafic jerky she kept in small bag in her satchel. Most of what she had, she left behind. The pack of wild dregs made sure of that. Wretched animals they were, living in packs and scavenging off of anything and every thing. Recently they have taken a liking to feeding on lost travelers. They swarmed her camps at night and followed her throughout the day. It could very well be possible that they were still on her trail. Food in the desert is scarce after all. It surprised her just how cunning those beasts were.

Far ahead she saw sparkling light, the shimmering of the lake's blue surface. She fell to her knees, the oasis was real. Her ancestors had answered her prayers. She scooped up the water and quickly drank it, savoring the icy chill it gave her as it passed through her body. She had been lucky any sooner and she would have surely died. Taking her water skins she filled each to the rim, stashed them in her pack and then sought shade underneath a large leafed plant she didn't know the species off.

She looked of towards the horizon. It was so quite, there were no sounds or the chirping of small flying animals. Her village was nothing like this. It was never this quite not even on Mourning Day. Funny that she thought about that now of all times. When was the last time she mourned the spirit of her father? If the spirits weren't remember and not worshiped then they would fade away into despair, seizing to esist or even worse they were devoured by demons. She hoped her father's spirited hadn't faded. She still needed his guidance. But, she was only able to hold on to one candle from her camp it and it was cracked into, it was probably only good for one prayer and nothing more.

Looking towards the sky she saw the faded outline of the moon. She had once heard if she looked hard enough she could see the celestial temple, the resting place of all spirits. If things didn't get better her journey on Rannoch would end too early and she'd be on the moon before she proved her worth. She wondered if any of this was even worth it anymore. She took her diary and updated her maps, drawing pictures of plants and jotting down a warning sign of the dregs den she had the folly of stumbling into the night before. This diary would be the only thing that could remember her if she passed on.

It was a foolish quest stemmed from her own arrogance. Or was it pride? How was one suppose to find something that possibly didn't even exist. It didn't matter anymore. She always knew it was a one way trip anyway. She placed her hands to her sides. The bandages where old and dirty and she was fairly sure that her wounds where already infected. She cursed those dregs again. If they too had spirits she hoped that they faded away into the void.

She knew she couldn't stay here for long, soon it would be night and more of those predators would be stalking about she needed to keep moving. If only she had stayed with the caravan and the other pilgrims she wouldn't have been in this mess. What was that saying she had once heard. Curiosity killed the creth? It was a fitting analogy. If only she could find some food that might ease her worries if only for a little while. She gathered what little she had turned and headed towards the sunset maybe hoping she could find some rafic warrens to set traps nearby. Rafics were abundant animals that lived in small dens in the ground. They were quick little things but they weren't particular bright so they were easily caught in traps. But then she stopped.

There was movement above the horizon on the farthest sand dune. She took her spy glass and peered into it. The image was blurry at first. All she could she was a blurry gray speck and a slight bright light imitating from its body. As It walked she noticed that in its hand was what she thought was some sort of rifle but the model she couldn't make out. At first she thought it was another pilgrim from afar it's body shape was similar two legs, two arms but it had this odd head it had a strange gait as well. It was stiff almost mechanical. As soon as the thought crossed her mind she new exactly what it was. It was a demon. It was a silver skinned demon.

She remembered the stories her father had used to tell her. The tales of how the ancients, her ancestors, once controlled the world, how they used to live in tall silver cities that pierced the heavens. They could even travel back from forth from the moon and Rannoch at their own leisure. But one, day everything changed, they were betrayed by their own people. Those people made demons and in a mighty war the ancients were struck down from there seat of power to forever scramble the barren wastelands of desolation in forever darkness doomed to extinction.

She had never truly believed in such stories. Sure some of the pilgrims would say they saw one or two but she away assumed it was nothing more than heat getting to their heads. Nothing more than wild hallucinations stories to scare children so they would behave themselves. Only the ancients and the spirits of her ancestors were real demons simply weren't. But now that she saw it she was having her doubts. She ducked behind the nearest rock. She didn't want to risk it. It was better safe than sorry. It stood there for but a moment it's single eye looking in far off distances only it could see, and then it left almost as quickly as it appeared. She gave a sigh of relief. If it was going east she made sure to go west.

It was almost night and sun was disappearing behind the horizon. She was tired and she hadn't seen a single rafic. She dug her hands into the jerky bag eating what remaining crumbs she had and a few bits of lint. In the distance she heard a faint howling. Her heart beat quickened she took out her pistol and held it in her hand to check the how many rounds she had left. Its wasn't nearly enough to take on a pack of dregs she could kill a three maybe four but not much more. If push comes to shove she could use her shotgun but she didn't really want to fight those creatures up close. That's how she ended up with the gash on her sides in the first place.

The howling had gotten closer she frantically looked around herself. Not even a single rock to hide behind just open sand and a few shriveled dying trees and wild grasses. The creatures swarmed her growling and snapping as they came. The moon light reflected in there eyes giving them a horrific glow. There was six no seven of them and in the back was the largest dreg she ever saw. It's entire head was read and it had this nasty looking scar gashed across the left side of its beak and a broken sickle claw on its forearm.

One of the dregs upon seeing her ran toward her at top speed teeth bared and sickle claw aiming for the thought. She shot it the creature fell and blood began to spill from it's wound. It gave a high pitched wine which then died out. The others saw this and stopped but they didn't run away. Instead they stopped their advance a few meters away circling her. She stun her self around trying pistol in hand, she didn't want the creatures jumping her from behind. Some of the dregs would jut forward give a growl, snap there jaws but none took the risk of a forward attack save for one. It was the large one with the scar on its beak. It growled at her as it circled her sizing her up for the kill. It must have been the leader of the pack. She reached for her shotgun.

The dreg leap forward and with a pick swing of her gun she hit the creature in the head. The dreg buckled and fell on it's side but it quickly recollected itself. It began to circle her again and gave a howl. Another dreg came at her biting her on the leg. She screamed in pain. She turned and shot it in the head. But then another came after her and bit her on her arm causing her to drop the gun. She reached for her knife and stabbed it in the eye. It let go of her and backed away whining in pain.

After that all hell went loose. The beasts swarmed her. It all seemed to happen so quickly she killed as many as she could before she fell to the ground. There was only seven and yet it felt like there was more of them. She couldn't focus and there were so many of them. The alpha stood in front of her and just when she thought it was about to bring its jaws down on her head the dreg's skull seemed to explode. Pieces of blood and bone splattered on the ground and a fell on her clothing. The dreg fell to the ground, it's body motionless.

The other dregs wined, without there fearless leader they flew into disarray running in all directions. Praise the ancestor. She looked up towards her savior and a chill ran down her spine. The demon looked upon her, a red and white stripe adorn it's arm and there was a gaping whole in the center of it's body.

"Creator you require medical attention !"


End file.
